


You Never Have To Knock

by TrixieBastard



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 10:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1978629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrixieBastard/pseuds/TrixieBastard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - Rae moves into a new apartment and gets to know her neighbor. Set in 2004.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh my god, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t, I just can’t.”

 

Rae whimpered as she cast a weary glance upwards, the window to her new flat reflecting sunlight down to where she stood on the pavement. The fact that the light had to travel five floors down before it reached her was what had her talking to herself – Karim had gone to return the moving van and she’d been left to carry the rest of her belongings up to the top floor in a building with no lift. The two of them had already hauled all the big furniture upstairs and she was worn out.

 

After a brief moment of consideration, Rae decided to take a well-earned break. Locking the doors to Karim’s car, she took two boxes and headed inside, unwilling to waste a trip by going up empty-handed. Her nose wrinkled as she entered the foyer -- though the odor had faded since she and Karim had first arrived earlier that afternoon, it was apparent that someone in the building had cooked cabbage recently. There was also a pervading scent of cat, but having one herself, Rae didn’t notice it.

 

With leaden legs she began to mount the stairs to her new home, her footsteps echoing dully on the wooden staircases. There were only ten units in the block, two to each floor. From what she understood, the building had once been a small textile warehouse back in the 50’s that had been converted into flats in the 70’s, and hadn’t been much touched since. As such, the walls were fairly thin, and sounds of domestic life floated around her as she passed upwards through the small building.

 

Rae clomped up the last half-flight and carefully balanced the boxes on her left hip before reaching out to unlock the door to her flat. She nudged the door open with her foot and stepped inside, thankful that Mersey had been shut in the bathroom to keep him from getting underfoot. Since he was safely contained, Rae didn’t concern herself with closing the front door, electing to divest herself of her burdens first. She deposited the heavier of the two boxes on the floor by the sofa, then took the smaller one marked “towels” over to the loo. She paused outside of the closed door -- last she’d checked in on him, Mersey had been fast asleep, snoozing in the basin. If she was quick enough, she could slip in and put the box of towels in the linen closet before he even woke.

 

As soon as the door was ajar, a gray streak shot past Rae’s ankles and headed straight for the open front door, making a mad dash to the forbidden Outside. If she didn’t miss her guess, he’d been sitting right by the door, waiting for his opportunity to escape.  _The little shit. Of course he’d try it when Karim isn’t here to catch him._  Rae dropped the box of towels and turned to make chase, the cat having already disappeared from sight. “Mersey, you little bastard, get back here!” She was well aware of the futility of telling a cat what to do, but felt like asserting her dominance over the little terror anyway.  _What dominance? You let that furball walk all over you, Rae, and you know it._

 

As she neared the doorway, Rae heard footsteps coming up the stairs and hoped it was Karim returning from his errand (though she knew it was way too soon for him to be back, which was unfortunate as he was excellent at getting his hands on escapee cats). She was two steps away from the threshold when a twenty-something lad came into view, his arms wrapped around a struggling Mersey. He laughed as Mersey lodged a claw into the strap of his messenger bag and began to pull, the little devil doing whatever he could to get away.

 

“Oi, leave off, you’re stayin’ wi’ me until I find out who ya belong to.” His accent marked him as a fellow northerner, and Rae blinked in surprise before closing the distance between herself and the door, holding her arms out to relieve the helpful stranger of his furry catch.

 

“Er, he belongs to me,” she said as the man turned towards her voice, his dark eyes taking in the open door and the state of her flat. “Thanks for grabbin’ him, he’s a quick one,” she added as he handed Mersey over. It took a second for her to get a good grip on the wriggling cat, the tom clearly intent on being as much trouble for her as possible. Once she had him under control, she turned her gaze back to the guy who was standing in her doorway, a half-smile on his face.

 

“Didn’t know I were gettin’ new neighbors already. That you shoutin’ just now?” At Rae’s affirmation, the smile grew into a small, somewhat shy grin. “Did I hear ya call ‘im Mersey, then?” he asked, nodding at the cat. His chocolate eyes were warm, and there was a knowing glint in them that made Rae suspect that he recognized the reference.

 

“Yeah, even though he’s no paradise,” she laughed awkwardly, wincing internally at the lame joke and not entirely believing the chuckle that escaped him.  _Oh, please. Nobody could possibly find that funny._

 

“So you’re a Roses fan.” It wasn’t a question, but Rae nodded anyway. “Good, ‘cause I had to listen to my last neighbor singin’ with the Spice Girls and Take That every day for months.”

 

Rae winced sympathetically – Chloe had been a big fan of both of those groups and had subjected her to their albums mercilessly whenever Rae had gone over to hers. Some best friend Chlo had been --  anybody who’d intentionally assault their friend’s ears with such garbage was no friend at all. At least not while the album was playing, anyway. “Well, I don’t have any of that. I think the worst I have is Sinead O’Connor, and I promise I won’t sing along with it until well after six in the mornin’, yeah?”

 

She was rewarded with a huff of laughter as he ducked his head, the corners of his eyes crinkling from his smile. “Yeah, that’s fair,” he nodded, looking up at her through his lashes briefly before straightening back up. “Anyway, I was just droppin’ some stuff off before work, so I gotta get goin’. Nice meetin’ ya….” He trailed off and raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to supply her name.

 

“Rae.”

 

“Finn.” He reached forward and gave Mersey a scratch behind the ear before turning towards the door opposite of hers, a small jingle sounding as he pulled his keys out of his jeans pocket. “See ya around, Rae.”

 

“Cheers, Finn.” And with that, she shut her door, leaning her back against it as she buried her nose in Mersey’s soft fur.  During their short exchange, she’d been unable to ignore the fact that her new neighbor was extremely fit. He seemed to be a bit stuck in the 90’s fashion-wise, but that was fine with Rae -- she’d always had a thing for lads in plaid flannel and henleys. And lads with perfect profiles. Also lads with dark eyes and brown hair.

 

Rae felt a wobble in her legs as she leaned against the door and realized she needed to sit down, whether from exhaustion or the newfound knowledge that the neighbor across the hall was delicious, she wasn’t sure. She bent down and let Mersey go before making her way across the living room and flopping down onto her sofa, her eyes roaming around her new flat. Initially, she’d been a bit leery of the somewhat dodgy apartment building, but it was the only vacancy she’d been able to afford as rent in London was infinitely more expensive than it was in Stamford.

 

She heard the soft creak and thud of Finn’s door as he left again, his footsteps audible as he descended the stairs. If neighbors like Finn were what the building had to offer, maybe the choice to move here hadn’t been so bad after all.  “No one person has the right to be that gorgeous,” she declared to Mersey as he leapt up and began rubbing his head against her arm -- now that the front door was closed, he seemed to have lost all interest in getting outside and had turned back into his normal affable self. She rubbed the underside of Mersey’s chin and smiled as he closed his eyes in pleasure. “He was right nice, too. Anybody’d have to be to try and catch you, ya bugger.” Mersey began to purr, his rusty rumble loud enough to be clearly heard. The pair sat together for a quarter of an hour before Rae sighed and stood up, casting an eye around her very jumbled home.

 

“Right, well, better start getting this sorted.” True to her nature, the first thing she had done upon entering the flat for the first time was set up her old boombox. It wasn’t nearly as good as her hi-fi, but it would have to do until the rest of the stereo cabinet was brought upstairs from the car. She flipped the power switch and began scanning for a decent radio station. She was wholly unfamiliar with London’s glut of available broadcasts, and it took her a few minutes before she caught the refrain of ‘Country House’ straining through the static. Grinning, she fine-tuned the station in, the familiar sounds of the old favorite filling the living room. She’d heard a lot of Top 40 crap before getting to whatever this station was, and had been losing hope. _Well, at least there’s one decent station here. You’d think a big city would have more than this, though._

 

Energized by the music, Rae began to sort the boxes out. As she was just starting out on her own for the first time, there wasn’t much to go through, and within twenty minutes the various containers were arranged by room. She decided to get the kitchen set up first -- Karim would be back soon, and neither of them had eaten since breakfast. They hadn’t bought any proper food yet, but that hardly mattered as she seriously doubted either one of them was going to be in the mood to cook. She didn’t want to send Karim on the road back to Stamford without having eaten, so she pulled out her mobile and tapped the icon for the internet browser, searching for nearby delivery. She had settled on a well-reviewed Chinese restaurant when Karim returned, looking weary. Rae didn’t know where the van depot was, but she knew Karim had had to take transit back, which always wore him out. His English was leagues better than it had been when he had first joined her family, but sometimes he had a hard time getting people to understand his still-considerable accent, and getting directions usually ended up being a chore.

 

Karim smiled at her before flopping down in the same spot Rae had occupied earlier, closing his eyes briefly before Mersey jumped up on his lap. He reached down and pet the cat absently, then cracked an eye open to look at Rae. “I forgot to stop off for food,” he admitted forlornly, his gaze trained on his stepdaughter, hoping she wouldn’t be disappointed in him. She didn’t ask for much, and he hated to let her down in even the smallest ways.

 

Trying not to laugh at his glum tone, Rae shook her head. “Don’t worry, I thought we’d get Chinese anyway. I definitely do not feel like cooking.” At Karim’s grin, Rae dialed and placed their order, Karim’s preferred dish as well-known to her as her own. After she hung up, she joined Karim on the sofa, the pair sitting in a comfortable silence as they waited for their dinner. Rae liked that about him – he didn’t feel the need to always be saying something, unlike her mother. Rae had never been a quiet person, but she had come to appreciate silence as she had gotten older. Like right now, just sitting companionably as they rested their bones, listening to the radio – it was nice. Smiling, she leaned over and rested her head on Karim’s shoulder, closing her eyes as the music washed over her.

 

A knock at the door caused her to jump, rousing her from her slight doze. Yawning, she stood and answered the door, paying the delivery man and bringing the foam containers of food to the sofa. Karim had fetched forks and plates from a box while Rae was at the door, and they served themselves quickly, hunger making them both pile their plates high.

 

Just as Rae was about to take her first bite of egg foo young, the afternoon deejay's last music block ended. Mouth agape, she stared at the radio as a familiar voice rode the airwaves, introducing the evening broadcast.

 

_“You’re listenin’ to Finn on Mix 104.9. How’s it tonight, London? I’ve got the White Stripes, Oasis, and Nirvana on the way. Stay tuned for a chance to win tickets to T in the Park. Until then, here’s some Kaiser Chiefs to get the night rollin’.”_

 

Rae's sighed as the intro to ‘I Predict A Riot’ began playing. “Bloody hell.” At Karim’s questioning glance, she shook her head and returned her attention to her dinner. So Finn was a deejay, he was fit, he knew enough about good music to recognize Mersey’s name, he was nice, and he lived across the hall.  _Great. He’s a quintuple threat. And I’d never stand a chance with him._

\----------

Once out of the imposing office building that was his home from 7:00 to 11:00, Finn stretched his arms above his head, groaning appreciatively as his spine gave several satisfying pops. He kept his arms up for a minute to stretch his shoulders, only allowing them to drop when he felt a passing moth smack into his palm. He dug in his pocket for his tobacco tin and retrieved a rollie from the small box, lighting it and inhaling deeply as the warm June night enveloped him. Even though the music catalog tended towards some stuff that he didn’t care for, Finn loved working at Mix. He’d only recently been promoted from the 11pm – 2am broadcast, and though the number of listeners dropped considerably after the afternoon commute, his new evening slot came with more pressure than the overnight one. Tonight’s broadcast had gone without a hitch, and he was feeling good.

 

Taking another puff, Finn headed towards Leicester Square station, intent on going home and getting his stomach around some food. The walk from the Mix offices was a short one, and ten minutes later Finn was boarding the Piccadilly line. He chose a seat towards the rear of the car and closed his eyes as the train rolled out, his mind occupied by the night’s show. He smiled as he remembered the excitement of the girl who had won the tickets to T in the Park – her glee had been almost palpable. Those were Finn’s favorite kind of winners – the ones who actually sounded happy to win the prize, as opposed to those who tried to play it cool and ended up sounding unimpressed.

 

Finn also felt good about the songs he had chosen for his deejay’s choice slots that night. A station as large as Mix had a mostly predetermined playlist for each broadcast shift, but twice an hour the radio personalities were allowed to play any song from the catalog, old or new. He’d gone to the back room and picked out some vinyls, and it had been no accident that the first song he had chosen was ‘Mersey Paradise’. He had loved the Stone Roses when he was in college, and he’d been shocked when he’d heard Rae’s cat’s name and realized it had been a few years since he had listened to them.

 

_Rae. Wonder what that’s short for?_

 

A half-smile ghosted across Finn’s mouth as an image of his new neighbor’s rather considerable chest flashed against the backs of his eyelids.  _Definitely not Raymond. That much is pretty clear._  He’d tried his best not to perve on her the minute he saw her, and he could only hope the few glances he’d been unable to avoid had gone unnoticed -- thank god the cat had been there to distract her. Most people looked like hell on moving day, but she’d been surprisingly striking in a faded Oasis tee and ratty jeans, face glowing from exertion and hazel eyes sparking with annoyance at her cat. He’d clocked the furniture inside the flat – there was no way she’d have been able to get all that upstairs by herself, but he’d not seen anyone else with her. However, she hadn't corrected him when he’d pluralized ‘neighbors,’ so he could only assume there was going to be someone else living there too.  _Be a shame if it were a guy. Or girl, if that's her thing._

 

The rhythmic movement of the train had lulled him into a light doze as he contemplated Rae, but his internal compass roused him a few stops ahead of the one closest to his flat. He disembarked at Wood Green and walked two blocks to his building, trying to look alert as possible. It wasn’t the worst neighborhood to be in after dark, but he’d come across a mugging or two in the six months he’d been living there, only one of which he’d been able to thwart. Tonight was quiet, however, and he made it home without incident.

 

He was nearing the top of the stairs to the fifth floor when he heard Rae’s voice coming through her door and the answering rumble of a male voice. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he felt a small pang of disappointment at the sound. Well, from what he could tell, she seemed cool, and what cool girl wouldn’t have a lad around? He turned towards his door and unlocked it, slinging his messenger bag to the floor as he stepped inside. Feeling suddenly tired, he decided to ignore his hunger and give dinner a miss, heading straight to bed. Despite his weariness, Finn couldn't get comfortable enough to fall asleep. Exasperated, he lay staring into the dark, trying not to think too much about Rae and whoever she had with her in her flat. After all, he’d only spoken to her for five minutes. What fascination could she possibly hold for him already?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, this chapter was a real jerk. It refused to come out for the longest time, and it still put up a fight. Hopefully the next chapter is better and comes with more ease.

A beam of early afternoon sunlight shone through the bedroom window, slowly stealing across the room as the sun passed overhead. The clock was nearing 1:30 before the errant ray hit Finn in the face, the warmth and brightness waking him. Finn squinted into the light with a muttered ‘ _fuck_ ’, realizing how late in the day it had to be if his bedroom was getting sun. He rolled over and peered at his alarm clock, then let out a soft groan. It had been a late night for him – his odd preoccupation with Rae had finally been overpowered by the hunger he had unwisely ignored, and he had been forced to get out of bed and make a quick meal. It had taken him a while to wind back down to a point where he felt like he could sleep, and he hadn’t gotten back to bed until almost four. Fortunately, this was one of his days off, else he’d have already missed half of his usual Saturday afternoon shift.

 

Finn sat up and planted his feet on the floor, taking a minute to clear the sleep from his eyes and ponder what to do with his day. A whole weekend to himself was a luxury he got once a month, and that was only because he’d work too many hours if they didn’t furlough him. He hoped for the day when he became big-time enough to warrant not having to pull a weekend slot at all – the poor economy had Mix cutting strings as much as possible and they had let most of the old weekend crew go, asking workday deejays to cover the newly opened shifts. Naturally, most of those hours fell to the newbies, and Finn missed having his weekends open to do as he pleased.

 

A quick shower and a plate of scrambled eggs finished his awakening process, and soon he was standing in his living room, surveying his surroundings as he tried to decide what to do with his afternoon. His eye lit on the formidable collection of vinyl LPs stacked in milk crates, the huge collection taking up most of the wall to the left of the door. As large as it was, Finn still loved adding to it, and he realized it had been a couple of weeks since he’d been to Top Volume. _Time to change that._

 

Finn was locking up when he heard Rae’s door open behind him, the sounds of Suede coming from her flat for a moment. He heard her curse lightly at Mersey, who from the sounds of it had tried to sneak out behind her before she’d managed to close the door. He felt a half-smile grow unbidden and tried to tame it before turning to Rae, who was looking at him with narrowed eyes, a bag of refuse grasped in one hand. His smile faded as he hesitated, wondering why she was giving him that look.

 

_“You.”_

 

Finn’s brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced at Rae. Her tone was vaguely accusatory, and he had no idea why.  He felt his pulse pick up as he answered as nonchalantly as he could manage. “Yeah?”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a deejay?!”

 

Finn blinked – they’d only spoken a few minutes yesterday. Weren’t career paths a little advanced for the ‘hey, I found your cat’ conversational menu? Finn wasn’t entirely certain – he’d never been comfortable navigating the sea of small talk. “I, uh, didn’t know you were interested. So you heard the show?”

 

“Of _course_ I’d be interested! That’s, like, a dream job, innit? All my life I wanted to be a deejay, and now I know one.” Her eyes were wide as she gestured to him, her eyebrows raised fit to meet her hairline. “Karim and I were sittin’ down to dinner when I heard ya. About choked on my egg foo young from surprise.”

 

 _Karim._ So that was Mystery Guy’s name. Finn felt his face go a bit flat at the mention of him, but gave a slight one-sided shrug to play it off. “It’s a pretty mint job. You wanted to be one?”

 

“Yeah, but I don’t have a good voice for radio, so I became a journalist instead. Freelance, really, until I can find a real job somewhere.”

 

Finn nodded, unsure how to answer. Honestly, he thought her voice would be fine with a bit of training, just like anyone else’s -- hardly anyone was born with a radio-ready voice. He was trying to figure out how to say that without sounding like a creeper when he saw a blush begin to bloom on Rae’s cheeks. Her eyes darted to the side, looking down the stairwell.

 

“Er, sorry, you were leavin’ to go somewhere and here I am talkin’ yer ear off. Sorry. I’ll just go take this rubbish down to the bin,” she said, hefting the bag of trash and turning towards the stairs.

 

“‘S alrigh’, I’m just goin’ to the record shop,” he answered, looking away as they stood, each waiting for the other to begin down the steps first. Finally Rae stepped forward and started on her way down, Finn waiting a second before following. The loudness of their footsteps on the wooden stairs combined with the rustling of the rubbish bag belayed any conversation, and the air between them was awkward as they reached the ground floor. Finn gave Rae a clumsy wave and a smile that he suspected looked more like a grimace as they parted ways, her path taking her to the bin in the back yard while he headed south towards the bus stop, wondering if he was ever going to figure out how not to seem completely weird around new acquaintances.

 

\---------

 

It was nearly a fortnight before Rae spoke to Finn again, except for in passing. She had been busy acclimating to her new home and trying to land freelance jobs from the local papers. She’d managed to wrangle a temporary stint as an obituary writer for the Star Press while their regular was out on maternity leave, but her other inquiries had been met with little success. The obit job would pay enough to keep her going for a few months when combined with her savings, but if Theresa was going to be on leave for longer than the usual six months, Rae would have to find something else to supplement the paycheck from Star.

 

She was at her desk checking her facts about Mrs. Thomasina Stephens (Alzheimer’s) when she felt a rivulet of sweat roll down her back. It was only the third week in June, and the temperature had reached an unseasonable 25 degrees. If it was August, she might not have had a problem with it, but it had only been 16 degrees out as little as three weeks ago, and she was not ready for the spike in heat. Plus, being on the top floor meant that she felt the accumulated heat from everyone’s apartments below her, and she was roasting. What she needed was some air flow.

 

Much to Mersey’s delight, Rae went around the flat and opened all the windows wide. He immediately jumped into the windowsill in front of her desk, his fur ruffling in the soft breeze coming in through the screen. Rae sat back down at the computer, but now that she had noticed how hot it was, the heat was distracting enough to keep her from her work. Apparently opening the windows wasn't enough to get the air properly circulating.

 

Spinning lazily in her desk chair, Rae considered her options. After a moment of contemplation, her eyes went to the baby gate that was leaning up against the wall in the hallway that led to her bedroom. She had intended on using it to keep Mersey corralled in the back part of the apartment as needed, but now she thought it could be put to better use. She stood and grabbed the gate, then went to the front door. As soon as she flipped the deadbolt, Mersey was up and poised to run. _What is it with your obsession with escaping? I definitely treat you well enough. Ungrateful beast._

 

She managed to get into the hallway without Mersey tailing her, though the gate had made it difficult. As soon as the door was shut, she turned to the top of the stairs, a grin lighting her face as she realized that the gate would fit across the stairwell. She felt a little strange about putting up a baby gate in a common area, but it was so hot and having her door open would do wonders, as the stairwell was noticeably cooler than it was in her flat. With only a slight hesitation, Rae wedged the gate across the stairwell, blocking off Mersey’s path downstairs. Or so she hoped.

 

Rae turned back to her door and opened it wide, allowing Mersey to dart out. She gave him a smirk of superiority when he pulled up by the gate, tail twitching. He rewarded her with a baleful glance, then proceeded to roam around the area of the hallway he could access, sniffing at corners and giving chase to a housefly that zoomed by.

 

Rae stepped back inside the apartment and immediately noticed the improved air flow, though it still wasn’t quite as good as she’d hoped it would be. Still, it was better than it had been. She set a heavy book in front of the door to keep it propped open, then grabbed Mersey’s favorite toy – evidently she’d have to bribe him to keep him in the flat. “Mersey, catch!” she called, the cat trotting in and winding around her ankles with a soft mew. I swear he’s half dog, the way he loves to fetch this thing. Rae crouched down and bounced the small rubber ball on the floor, ricocheting it off the wall and back into the living room. Mersey gave a leap and tackled it, trapping it against the floor with his paws. He nipped at her hand playfully as she retrieved the ball, but let her grab it so the game could continue.

 

The pair had been playing for a bit before an errant aim by Rae sent the ball bouncing into the hallway, plonking against Finn’s door.  Mersey had just managed to get his paws on it when Finn opened his door, a quizzical expression on his face. Rae scrambled to her feet and went to fetch her cat, but Finn bent down and tousled the tom’s fur before picking up the ball.

 

“Hey, sorry ‘bout that,” Rae began, holding her hand out for the toy. Finn waved her off, then bounced the ball and smiled as Mersey gave chase.

 

“He’s quick on it,” he said as Mersey swiftly trapped the ball.

 

“When it’s a ball, yeah. We had a mouse once and he couldn’t be arsed,” Rae laughed, shaking her head at Mersey. She went over and retrieved the ball, bouncing it again for the cat, who went nuts trying to catch it. The floors in the hallway were hardwood rather than carpeted, so the ball rebounded in higher arcs out here than it did in the apartment, which was evidently much more fun for Mersey.

 

“So what’s that?” Finn asked, inclining his head towards the baby gate but keeping his eyes trained on the tom. Rae gave him a sharp look – considering how they’d met, she would have thought the purpose of the gate would be apparent. He hadn’t struck her as a particularly dense person, but maybe she’d misread him.

 

“Er, it’s for Mersey.”

 

Finn’s expressive eyebrows quirked upwards, his eyes meeting hers briefly before looking back at the cat. “He get out again?”

 

“No, it’s not that,” she began, gesturing to her door. “The flat’s been really hot, and I figured maybe it would cool off some if I kept the door open for air flow. That’s why the ball hit your door,” she explained as she fetched it from Mersey once again. “Missed my throw and off it went across the hall,” she added, making a zooming motion with her hand. “Sorry ‘bout that again, by the way.”

 

“’S alrigh’,” Finn answered, giving a barely perceptible one-sided shrug. Rae stared at him with wide eyes, resisting the urge to shake her head in wonder. _For someone who makes a livin’ by talkin’ on the radio, he really doesn’t say much._

 

Rae had started to retreat back into her flat when she paused, a slight frown crossing her brow as she debated asking Finn a question that had been circling in her mind. He was back in his flat and in the midst of shutting the door before she spoke up, her curiosity getting the better of her.

 

“Hey, Finn?”

 

The door stopped closing halfway through its arc, the gap between jamb and door widening again as Finn looked across the hall. “Yeah?”

 

“I’ve been meanin’ to ask ya somethin’. It’s stupid, but… did ya play ‘Mersey Paradise’ a couple weeks ago because of him?” she asked, nodding to the gray.

 

Finn nodded, coming out from behind the door and leaning his shoulder against its frame. He pulled at his left earlobe, not quite meeting her inquisitive gaze. “Yeah, I used to listen to the Roses a lot in college. Kinda fell away from ‘em for a while in uni, but you reminded me about ‘em when you shouted after ‘im that day.”

 

Rae smiled, pleased that she had rejuvenated his interest in one of her favorite bands. Remembering another question she had for Finn, she narrowed her eyes at him in mock suspicion. “An’ how did ya know I named him for the song and not the river?”

 

Finn gave a snort, his gaze finally connecting with hers. “Who names a cat after a river?”

 

“Oh, come on, you know there are at least ten Thameses in London,” she retorted, rolling her eyes at imaginary hipsters and their cats.

 

“Then there are at least ten cats in London with a really shit name.” Finn gave her a small smirk, then gestured for the ball. “Give it a bounce,” he said, crouching low.

 

Rae complied, putting some extra power behind the bounce and laughing at Mersey’s acrobatic antics as he tried to catch it. As soon as it was near, Finn reached out and snagged the ball mid-air, then rebounded it to Rae as the cat chased intently.

 

As soon as the red sphere was in her hand, Finn gestured for Rae to send it back over -- evidently he was enjoying the game with Mersey. Mimicking Finn’s crouch, Rae returned the ball, grinning as her furry little friend lost his mind over the game of keep-away, his paws scrabbling on the wood floor as the ball passed back and forth between the two neighbors.

 

Before long, Mersey was overcome with heat and flopped down in a corner, his sides rising and falling rapidly as he panted. Finn sent him a sympathetic glance before enveloping the ball in a fist. “Sorry, buddy, kinda forgot it was so hot.” He armed some sweat off of his forehead, then scoffed, his eyebrows raised as he looked at the resulting sheen of moisture on his forearm. “Dunno how, though. I’m roastin’.”

 

Rae peered into Finn’s flat, only to see that his living room windows were still shut. “Well, that’s why – you haven’t opened your windows!”

 

“Tried it, didn’t do anything.”

 

“Try it again, but keep your door open this time,” Rae suggested, cocking her thumb behind her to indicate her own solution to the oppressive heat. “Seems to have helped some over here.”

 

Finn rose from his crouch and did as Rae suggested. As soon as the first window was open, Rae could feel a slight susurration as the breeze was drawn from her flat to his. The sensation strengthened as the second window was opened – apparently they could get a really nice breeze through as long as they gave the wind an unimpeded path. Finn made his way back to his doorway, an impressed expression on his face. “Okay, guess my door stays open too.”

 

“I can get another gate to keep Mersey in my flat,” Rae offered as she stood from her crouch. “That way he won’t be a bother to ya.”

 

Finn pressed his lips together, his chin taking on a pebbled appearance as he shrugged, his right shoulder raising slightly. “You don’t have to get one if you don’t want. I don’t mind if he wanders over.” He was trying to keep his tone indifferent, but Rae thought it sounded like he almost _wanted_ the little bugger to visit him.

 

“Yeah, okay. If you’re sure,” Rae answered, surprised that Finn would want a cat he hardly knew roaming at will around his flat.

 

“Yeah.”

 

The two neighbors paused and looked at each other, both wondering what the other was thinking. After a few seconds, Rae turned and looked back at her desk. She’d ignored her work for long enough. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so…” She trailed off, lightly bouncing her right hand on her thigh in a nervous gesture.

 

“Alrigh’, laters.” Finn gave her a nod before retreating to his flat, automatically reaching to close the door behind him before he remembered that he was going to be keeping it open during the day. He disappeared from view for a second, then returned with what looked like a bookend, which he used to prop his door open.

 

Rae watched Finn sit down on his couch before she clucked her tongue at Mersey, trying to coax him to follow her back inside, only to be ignored in true feline fashion. Not that it really mattered anyway if her door was going to remain open – wanting Mersey in the flat with her was more out of habit than anything.

 

Once she was back in her home, she sat down at her desk, mentally preparing herself for diving back into the somewhat dull world of obituary writing. Her back was to the door, and she felt the skin tighten along her spine. For some reason, she had been comfortable with the idea of keeping her door open when she was the only one doing it, but now that Finn could look over and see her whenever she was at her desk, she was questioning her decision. It wasn’t that she thought he’d do anything bad; it was just that it was unnerving knowing he could look into her flat whenever he wanted.

 

She was about to go close her door when a wonderful breeze blew in from the windows, deliciously cool against her face. _Okay, anything is worth that amazing breeze. Finn can stare at my back all he wants, I am_ not _shutting that door._

 

\---------

 

_“It's been seven hours and fifteen days_

_Since you took your love away_

_I go out every night and sleep all day_

_Since you took your love away…”_

 

The throaty voice of Sinead O’Connor floated over the clatter of dishes as Rae began to wash up after her (somewhat pathetic) lunch, the spoon from her cold cereal rattling against the ceramic bowl. Rae sang along to the ballad, making sure not to be too loud -- her door was already propped open in preparation for the afternoon heat. Even so, there was no crossbreeze yet -- Finn’s door was closed, as he had stepped out for a bit. _Not that I was listening for him or anything…_

 

_“Since you been gone I can do whatever I want_

_I can see whomever I choose_

_I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant_

_But nothing_

_I said nothing can take away these blues…”_

 

Mersey twined between her ankles, meowing plaintively up at her. She glanced over at his food bowl and saw that it was still half full, then frowned down at him. “Shush, you have food. You just pushed it to the edges, you daft thing.” She finished washing the bowl and set it aside to dry, then bent and shook Mersey’s dish, coaxing the kibble back to the middle of the bowl.

 

_“'Cause nothing compares_

_Nothing compares to you…”_

 

Just as she set the bowl back down, Mersey darted into the living room. Curious, Rae stood and followed him, only to find Finn crouched just outside her door, giving the furball a scratch behind his ear.

 

As Rae neared, Finn looked up with a deadpan expression. “I thought you promised you wouldn’t sing along with Sinead,” he teased, the corners of his mouth twitching as hers dropped open in mock outrage.

 

“Ehm, no, I distinctly remember promising that I’d wait until after six in the morning before I sang along with her, not that I wouldn’t do it at all.”

 

“Maybe that were it,” he conceded, giving Mersey a final scratch before standing upright. “Well, just wanted to be sure you were holdin’ up your promise. See ya laters.”

 

“Uh, yeah, sure. Later, Finn.” Rae watched as Mersey followed Finn into his flat, ready to go fetch him if Finn didn’t want him over there. However, Mersey got a grin as Finn propped his door open with the same bookend as before. She heard Finn speak to the cat, but he kept his voice low and Rae couldn’t make out his words. Nonplussed, Rae turned her attention back to her own place, figuring Mersey would be back soon. _If nothin’ else, I can rattle his dish and he’ll come runnin’._

 

Rae had more work to do for the obituaries, but she realized that Sinead was all wrong for writing. Quirking her mouth to the side, Rae perused her vinyl collection, trying to find something she was in the mood for but wouldn’t be too distracting. _Nothing sad, writing obits is sad enough. But nothing too upbeat, either, or they’ll all come out sounding like I’m happy they died. Ugh, what do I want?!_

_Ah, this’ll do._   Rae pulled a sleeve from the third crate before she flipped up the lid to her turntable. She removed the record from the inner tissue sleeve, careful to avoid getting fingerprints on the vinyl’s ridges. She lifted the turntable’s arm and set the needle along the outer grooves of the record, enjoying the resulting hiss and pop. After a couple of revolutions, the needle found the beginning of the first track, and the sound of ‘So Far Away’ began filling the room.

 

“Dire Straits?”

 

Rae looked through her doorway and into Finn’s flat, where he was seated on his sofa. His brows were raised as he returned her gaze from across the hallway.

 

“Yeah. You sound surprised.”

 

“Just that my dad loves ‘em,” Finn volleyed back, secretly pleased with her annoyed scoff.

 

“Yeah, well, they’re good. They’re not depressing and not sickeningly happy either. Besides, Mark Knopfler’s guitar playing is amazing.”

 

Finn raised his hands in surrender. “Nothin’ against ‘em, I were just surprised to hear you play ‘em.”

 

“I can play somethin’ else if ya want,” Rae relented, remembering how he’d been forced to listen to music he hated by his last neighbors.

 

“Nah, I like Dire Straits, if you’re gonna go 80’s rock. ‘Sides, I gotta get ready for work anyway.”

 

“Well that settles it, then,” Rae laughed as Finn stood. He gave her a nod before he disappeared down his bedroom hallway.

 

 _Better get some work of my own done,_ Rae thought, settling down at her desk. _Okay, Mr. Matthew Stanton, how did you die?_

 

\---------

 

Rae was well into her fourth obit when an exclamation of disgust shook her out of her zone. She spun in her chair to see Finn standing on one foot, wiping at the sole of the other one with a towel. _What the bloody hell…?_ “What’s up, Finn?”

 

Finn glanced up at her question, an inscrutable expression crossing his face. “Uh, Mersey left me a present, and I stepped in it.”

 

A rush of mortification coursed through Rae, who shot up from her chair and grabbed her roll of paper towels. “Jesus, I am so sorry! He’s been having problems with hairballs lately,” she explained as she crossed the hall and into Finn’s flat. She grimaced as she saw the spot on the carpet. “Eurgh, that’s a bad one. Here, I’ll clean it up, go wash your foot off.” Finn went down to his bathroom, walking on the side of his foot in an effort to limit the spread of cat barf. Rae heard the rush of water as he turned on the tap, then shifted her attention to the ball of fur Mersey had brought up.

 

She was wetting a paper towel in the kitchen sink when Finn emerged from the bathroom. “Rae, I’m gonna be late if I don’t leave now. Can it wait?”

 

“I gotta get it cleaned up now or you’ll have a big stain the color of cat kibble on your carpet,” Rae warned, wringing the excess water from the paper towel and walking into the living room.

 

Before Rae knew what he was on about, Finn had taken the key to his flat off of his keyring and lobbed it to her. “Here, lock up after?” She caught the key and gaped at him, her befuddled blink eliciting a lopsided grin from Finn. “Look, ya aren’t gonna rob me, are ya?” Rae shook her head, eyes wide. “Then I trust ya. I’ll pick that up after I get back,” he added, nodding to the key in her hand. “You’ll still be up ‘round midnight?”

 

A slight nod and a “Yea-” was all she managed before he was out the door and thundering down the stairs, his usual courtesy for his neighbors lost in his haste. Rae glanced at the source of the problem, who returned her gaze with cool green eyes before he began to lick at a forepaw. “You are way more trouble than you’re worth sometimes,” she told him as she knelt in front of the orange patch on the carpet. Fortunately, she’d had plenty of practice when it came to cleaning up Mersey’s hairballs, and it wasn’t much longer before there was no trace of the offending stain.

 

Rae had shooed Mersey out of Finn’s flat and was about to leave when her eye caught the stacks of milk crates full of vinyls. They were lined up against the same wall as the door, hidden from sight unless the observer was actually inside the flat. Intrigued at such a large collection, Rae began looking over the titles, sounds of admiration escaping her as often as gasps of surprise or snorts of derision. Some she couldn’t tell what they were, and though her curiosity was keen, she wasn’t about to disturb his collection. She was sure they were filed in some sort of order, and the last thing she wanted to do was mess that up.

 

She was squinting at the records in the fourth crate before she came to the realization that she was being somewhat creepy by hanging out in Finn’s flat without his presence, poring over something as highly personal as a music collection. Embarrassed, she quickly exited, locking Finn’s door before scurrying back to her living room. She practically launched herself onto her sofa, where she remained, trying to ignore how impressed she’d been by the collection of records she wasn’t supposed to have looked at.

 

\---------

 

Finn trudged up the stairs to his flat, taking care not to let his feet fall too heavily. Bad enough that he’d been noisy as hell leaving at 6:00, there was no way he’d disturb them when it was nearing midnight. He smiled to himself when he saw that Rae’s door was still open, then wrestled a bit with the baby gate, unaccustomed to how the latch worked. He got it to release and let himself through, replacing it once he was past. He’d never forgive himself if Mersey escaped by his fault.

 

“Hey, Rae,” Finn started before reaching her doorway, where he stopped short. Rae was on her sofa, out cold. He frowned at the sight and knocked his knuckles against her door frame, the sharp _tok-tok_ rousing her from her sleep.

 

“Oh. Heya, Finn,” she said, peering at him with bleary eyes as she sat up.

 

“Hey,” he answered, his tone flat. “Came for my key,” he continued as Rae yawned. She reached into the pocket of her jeans and withdrew his key, holding it out as she remained on the sofa. Finn’s mouth set in a line as he walked over and took his key, then stood and looked down at her.

 

“Y’shouldn’t leave the door open if you’re sleepin’,” he said, the ghost of a frown on his brow. Rae rubbed her eyes and nodded slowly, almost dreamily; Finn wondered if his words were even getting through. “Y’hear me, Rae?”

 

“Yeah, I hear ya, Finn. You’re makin’ it impossible not to.”

 

Finn’s face relaxed and he huffed a quick burst of laughter through his nose. “Yeah, okay. Just don’t want anybody comin’ up here and walkin’ in like I did tonight. It were too easy, and ya didn’t wake up until I knocked. You’re still new here. I dunno if ya noticed, but this neighborhood aren't the best, so be careful.”

 

Rae tilted her head and looked up at Finn, realizing that he had strung more words together in the last minute than he had during the entire cat barf incident. “Alright, I’ll be more careful.”

 

“Promise?”

 

Rae gave him a reassuring smile. “Cross me heart,” she said, drawing an X near her left shoulder.

 

“As long as ya keep this promise better than the one about Sinead O’Connor, I’ll be happy.” With that, Finn gave Rae a tight smile and turned to leave, closing Rae’s door behind him as he exited. He waited until he heard the lock flip into place, then made his way across the hall to his dark bedroom and sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I am so SO sorry that it has been half a freaking year since I updated and that I’m a bit rusty with the whole fic thing. This chapter is a little light on plot, but I promise things will really start rolling in chapter four.

Rae wiped her mouth with her napkin, stealing a quick glance at her companion before returning the flimsy paper square back to her lap and shifting her gaze to the sunset glowing to the west. It was a prototypical pleasant Friday evening, though she did wish it wasn’t so still – she’d thought there’d be some sort of breeze up here on the roof, but she’d been wrong. So, so wrong. She resisted the urge to blot at her forehead with her napkin and instead took a sip of her lager, which had miraculously managed to not go completely warm yet. The bitterness of the drink paired well with the flavors of the grilled eggplant parmesan Finn had presented for their dinner, and a sense of contentment brought on by an excellent meal began to settle over her.

 

Rae had finally allowed herself to relax when the creaking of the roof access door sent a jolt through her body. She had seen the red and insistent “No Admittance” sign on the door as she and Finn had passed through on their way to their al fresco dinner, and though Finn had told her he’d had a table and a couple chairs up here since he’d moved in without trouble, Rae was still nervous.  It’d be just her luck if this happened to be the one time the landlord stopped by unannounced. Rae had only met Mr. Turnbull on three occasions and he hadn’t struck her as a particularly fun-loving nor understanding kind of person. She wasn’t sure if he’d be the kind to go so far as to boot her out of the building if he caught her up here or not, but she didn’t really want to find out either way.

 

Finn’s eyes met hers with what she thought was amusement before his gaze shifted to a spot beyond her shoulder. He nodded a greeting to the newcomer, and Rae turned to see who had caught them red-handed. Tension left her shoulders as she saw the hunched form of the old man from the third floor shuffling towards the folding chair and bucket that occupied the opposite corner of the roof. She watched as he sat down and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket, lighting one and taking an impossibly long drag as his rheumy eyes took in the sunset, his dark skin limned with coral light. Feeling her pulse settle back to normal, Rae picked up her fork and took another small bite of her eggplant. It was delicious.

 

“This is really good, Finn. I mean, really good.  Where did you learn to cook like this?”

 

Finn took a swig of his lager to wash down a bite before answering. “Me nan, mostly. She were Italian, and the times she wasn’t in her garden, she were in the kitchen.” He picked up his napkin from where it lay on the table and began tearing off little bits, rolling them between his fingertips. “She tried to teach me dad how to do stuff, but he were kinda hopeless at it.” Tiny spheres of wadded-up napkin began to litter the table as he continued. “So she showed me instead. I always went over to hers on Sundays to help make dinner.”

 

Finn’s eyes lost their light as he spoke, going dull and withdrawn as the napkin-ball army grew. His mouth shut in the manner Rae was learning meant he had finished with the topic at hand, and she suppressed a sigh. They had been hanging out occasionally over the past few weeks, but she still hardly knew anything real about him. She knew his preferences in music and movies and footie teams, but every time they approached a subject that was vaguely personal, he clammed up. It felt like everything she knew about his past had been picked up from clues and hints. Like the cooking thing – there had always been good smells wafting from his apartment around mealtimes, but she’d had no idea how well he could cook until tonight. She felt a small smile struggle to escape as she recalled how they ended up here in the first place.

 

> “Rae.”  
>    
> She had glanced up from her article on a small art showing, a small assignment she had picked up as an opportunity for some extra cash. Her neighbor was leaning against her door frame, right hand wrapped around his left elbow. He looked uncomfortable. “Heya, Finn. What’s up? Is Mersey botherin’ ya?”  
>    
> Finn shook his head. “Nah, he’s fine.” He paused before sallying forth. “Look, I’ve noticed ya get delivery a lot.”  
>    
> Rae’s smile had faded as her eyes narrowed, her gaze becoming keen. She hadn’t pegged him as the type to judge people for getting takeway a lot, but people constantly surprised her with their opinions on how others should live their lives. “Yeah, and?”  
>    
> “D’ya really like havin’ that every night?” he had asked, nodding at the foam food container full of Chinese, his eyebrows quirked upwards in something that resembled disbelief.  
>    
> “I don’t have the same thing every night,” she begun defensively, then deflated as she sighed and poked at the sweet and sour chicken with her fork. “Okay, you don’t have to answer that, I already know what you’re sayin’. I am tired of it, but I can’t cook for shit.”  
>    
> “I can.”

 

And just like that, they were up on the roof eating one of the best meals Rae had had in a long time. Suppressing an incredulous head shake, Rae picked up her lager again and took a gulp, then gave a satisfied sigh. “Oh, that’s good, but. I haven’t had a lager in ages.”

 

Finn raised his brows in silent question as he poked his ranks of napkin soldiers into ranks and files, not meeting her gaze.

 

“Well, I don’t like to drink alone, and I haven’t been out to a pub since I got to London. I’ve been too busy, really. I used to go all the time back home.”

 

A faint frown crossed Finn’s brow. “Karim don’t like to drink?”

 

Rae blinked, surprised by the question. “What?”

 

“You said his name was Karim, right?”

 

“Yeah, what about him?” Rae was certain she was looking at him like he’d grown a third arm, but she couldn’t help it – she was too occupied with trying to figure out how Karim had become the star of their conversation. She wasn’t as close-mouthed about her life as Finn was, but she couldn’t recall saying much about her family yet.

 

“He don’t drink? Or…” Finn trailed off

 

“He went back to Stamford ages ago. Besides, he’s Muslim and can’t drink, but even if he could, who’d want to get pissed with their stepdad? That’d be weird, wouldn’t it?”

 

Confusion briefly appeared on Finn’s face before he stifled it, wiping it away as easily as he swept the napkin pieces off the table and into his hand. “Yeah, s’pose so.”

 

\-----

 

Finn could have punched himself in the balls. This Karim guy was her  _stepfather_? He was too disgusted at himself to feel any sort of hope at her revelation – all he could think about was how he’d just made things awkward. He swept his collection of napkin pellets into the palm of his hand and dumped them into the empty skin of his portion of eggplant.  “Yeah, s’pose so,” he agreed, all the while thinking  _her. bloody. stepfather. I am a right twat._

 

His mental self-mutilation was interrupted by Rae thanking him for the meal. He looked up, meeting her eyes properly for the first time since the subject of his nan had come up. He nodded to her plate, which still had half of her dinner on it.

 

“Glad ya liked it. You want to take the rest o’ that back with ya?”

 

Rae nodded. “That’d be great, actually. Home-cooked food for two meals is a dream I thought wouldn’t come true for a while.”

 

Finn saw his opportunity and took it. “Well, you could come over for dinner tomorrow if ya wanted to make it for three meals. Ya like minestrone?” His question was met with a wide-eyed stare, as if he’d asked her if she preferred to take her tea on the moon or underwater. He met it frankly, wondering what could make her stare like that. “What?”

 

“Nothin’, just…  it’s really nice of ya to have me to dinner tonight. You don’t have to keep on with it.”

 

Finn scoffed. “Bollocks to that. At this point we’re friends, aye? And friends make sure friends eat better’n crap Chinese.”

 

Rae beamed. “Then you’re my first friend in London. If that doesn’t deserve celebratory minestrone, I don’t know what does.”

 

Finn stood and took their plates, Rae grabbing the empty lager bottles and following him inside. Mersey’s green gaze greeted them as they entered his flat, the cat lounging on the sofa.  Finn went into the kitchen and put plastic film over Rae’s plate, then brought it out to the living room and handed it to her. “So, tomorrow. Come over ‘round six?”

 

“Alright, six it is. Thanks again for dinner, and lunch tomorrow,” Rae answered, raising the plate as she said the latter. “I owe ya one. Or two, really.”

 

Finn was about to contradict her, but was forestalled as she called for Mersey. The cat awarded her with a lazy stare, to which she crinkled the cling film. Thinking he was about to get a treat, Mersey leapt up and trotted back home, followed by the sound of Rae’s mirth.

 

“He’s going to be shirty with me all night after he realizes he isn’t getting anything off this plate,” she chuckled. “Thanks again. For the third time,” she added, realizing she had thanked him not even a minute ago. “That’s just how much I appreciate it, yeah?”

 

“It were nothin’,” Finn answered, somewhat embarrassed at how much she was thanking him for a simple meal.

 

Rae cocked an eyebrow and exhaled before replying, “Ya know, I don’t agree with ya, but I don’t think you’d let me win that argument. So instead I’m just going to say goodnight. Have fun at work.”

 

“You’re righ’, and I will.”

 

\-----

 

The overhead PA crackled to life, indicating the approach to Wood Green Station, but Finn was oblivious to the announcement. He hadn't been sleeping well because of the heat, and despite the fact that it was only quarter to four, he had fallen deeply asleep on his way home from his Saturday shift at Mix.

 

He had ridden to Cockfosters before a ticket inspector woke him, gruffly informing him that it was the end of the line and that he had to leave. Miffed that he had to pay for the trip back to Wood Green, Finn disembarked, scanned his Oyster card, and re-boarded, not bothering to take a seat for the short ride south.

 

The detour had added an extra twenty minutes to his commute, and it was an irritated Finn that climbed the stairs to the fifth floor. Checking that the coast was clear, Finn let himself through the gate, replacing it just as Mersey came trotting out of Rae’s flat in greeting. Finn smiled as the cat began winding himself between Finn’s ankles and chirruping, evading Finn’s attempts to pet him. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, is it?” he asked under his breath, straightening up and digging in his pocket for his keys.

 

“He’s really taken to ya,” Rae said as she appeared in her doorway, giving the moggy a fond look. “The only other person he ever wants to say hi to is my friend Chloe back in Stamford.”

 

“I’ve always gotten on with cats.”

 

“Oh? Why don’t ya have one, then?”

 

Finn paused, wondering the same thing. Unable to come up with an acceptable reason, he shrugged. “S’pose I just never got around to it.”

 

Rae gestured at Mersey. “Looks like ya might have one and not know it -- that one would follow ya to the ends of the earth.”

 

She said it without jealousy or rancor, but Finn still felt a hint of guilt over how much time the cat spent with him and not Rae. Unsure how to respond, Finn stepped over to his door and unlocked it, propping it open and allowing Mersey to enter. Once inside, the cat trotted across the living room and vaulted onto one of the windowsills. Finn shook his head at him and looked back to Rae.

 

“’S not me he likes, it’s the sun he’s after.”

 

“Typical of him, innit?” Rae replied as she rolled her eyes, one corner of her mouth upturned. “Want me to get him, or is he okay where he is?”

 

“He’s fine.” Finn plopped down on his couch and stretched his legs out in front of him. He gave Rae an easy smile, which came as a bit of a surprise -- she had passed the line between acquaintance and friend at some point during the past couple of weeks, and it had happened so seamlessly that he hadn’t noticed until now.  _She’s so easy-goin’, it’s hard not to be comfortable around her._

 

“Okay, just kick him out if he gets annoyin’.”

 

Finn watched as Rae retreated into her flat and sat down at her desk  -- she seemed to always be banging away at her computer. He couldn’t imagine spending his whole day writing about death – he didn’t know how she could stand it.

 

\-----

 

Rae was sick to death of death. The museum piece had been such a breath of fresh air that she was finding it difficult to go back to obituary writing. Just as she was certain she was going to lose her mind, Finn stepped into the hallway with Mersey draped over one shoulder. He closed his door and set the cat down, then knocked at her door frame. “Hey, I thought I had everything for the soup, but I don’t have tomatoes. Fancy a trip to the grocers?”

 

“What, go shopping? Can’t you find tomatoes on your own?” Rae teased, already planning on joining him. Getting out of the flat sounded like a splendid idea.

 

Finn snorted laughter. “Aye, I can, but I thought we could figure out what to get for the rest of the week. I don’t know what you like to eat.”

 

Rae hesitated as she considered Finn’s words. Did he really mean to cook her dinner every night? Flustered but trying not to show it, Rae nodded. “Sure, just give me a minute, yeah?” As Finn sat on her sofa to wait, Rae retreated to her bedroom and closed the door. She changed from her pajama pants and faded Joy Division tee to jeans and her Stone Roses shirt. The tee was old, the original black of the cotton now charcoal gray and the screenprinted ink cracked and peeling. As she ran a brush through her hair, she saw that there was a new hole under one of the arms. Despite these faults, it was her absolute favorite shirt.

 

After giving herself a once-over in the mirror, Rae rejoined Finn in the living room. She saw him take in the tee and noted his smile of approval.

 

“Ya ready?”

 

“Yeah, let’s go.”

 

Rae gave Mersey a scratch before closing the door, the cat barely taking note of their leaving -- he’d become accustomed to the door being open, and his urge to escape the flat had all but disappeared. She locked up and led the way downstairs. They had gotten down to the third floor before Finn held up a hand and knocked on the door of the apartment to their left.

 

A slow shuffling gait approached the door from the other side and an old, cracked voice answered Finn’s knock. “Who is it?”

 

“It’s Finn.”

 

Rae heard the tumbler slide back as the old man from the roof unlocked his door, opening it with a smile for Finn.

 

“We’re just off to the grocer. D’ya need anything?” Finn asked.

 

“Was goin’ ta go myself tomorrow for oats, but if you’re goin’, I won’t object,” the man answered, peering over Finn’s shoulder at Rae.

 

Finn stepped aside to make introductions. “Mr. Stevens, this is Rae. Rae, Mr. Stevens.”

 

Rae stepped forward and extended her hand, which Mr. Stevens enveloped with his own. They exchanged pleasantries for a moment before leaving for the grocers, promising their neighbor a container of oats. Squinting into the sun as they emerged from the dark foyer, Rae paused, not sure where Finn planned to go. Seeing her hesitation, he tilted his head to the left. “This way.”

 

They walked down Station Street towards High Road, Finn maneuvering so that he was on the side nearest the curb. There were a good number of people on the pavement, many of them dressed as if they planned on going to the clubs later. Rae briefly wished she was one of them – she hadn’t had much of a social life since she’d moved to London. At least she was going to have dinner with Finn.

 

They were nearly at the Morrisons before Rae managed to ask the question that was on her mind. “Did you mean it?”

 

Finn looked over, puzzled. “What’re ya talkin’ about?”

 

“You really mean to make me dinner all week?”

 

Finn shrugged. “Why not? Already cookin’ anyway, makin’ enough for two is dead simple.”

 

“Alright, just wanted to make sure you didn’t think you had to or anything, and that you wanted to and all that.”

 

Finn’s smile was reassuring. “Aye, I want to.”

 

They crossed Station and walked into the Morrisons, which was as busy as the street outside. Rae and Finn stepped out of the path of exiting shoppers and their trolleys as they began to discuss what to get for the week’s dinners.

 

“So what d’ya like?” Finn asked as he grabbed a trolley. He frowned at the wonky front wheel before putting the trolley back and selecting a different one.

 

“I’m not picky. I refuse to eat pasta from a tin, though,” Rae shuddered, remembering the one time she had tried what had been billed as “beef ravioli” but was in reality pillows of paste filled with salty sawdust.

 

Finn laughed. “Noted.”

 

\-----

 

They were back in Finn’s flat and putting the groceries away when Finn’s mobile rang. He answered it while Rae finished up, trying not to eavesdrop on his conversation.

 

> \---“Hello?  
> \--- Hey, Iz.  
> \--- What?  
> \--- Isn’t there anyone else?  
> \--- Yeah, alrigh’.  
> \--- Saturday and Sunday? Fuckin’ hell, I am gonna stick a boot right up Nick’s arse. He knows how much I hate doin’ this.  
> \--- You goin’ up too?  
> \--- Wait, how many extra?”

 

Finn’s eyes cut over to Rae as the person on the other end of the line spoke. He looked away, answering the other person with a series of “yeah”s and “okay”s as they discussed whatever it was that Iz wanted. Rae walked past him and into the living room, where she sat on the couch and looked around at Finn’s flat. She’d been in here several times by now, but she hadn’t paid attention to much besides his vinyl collection. She saw some framed photos of Finn posed with various people of all ages – there was a kindly-looking middle-aged man that she assumed was his father, a skinny blonde that had the ‘girlfriend’ air about her, a group of college kids with Finn at their center, and one of a young Finn with a woman that could only be his nan. Other than the photos, there weren’t many tchotchkes – his decorating style leaned more towards band posters and framed music memorabilia.

 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Finn said as he stepped out from the kitchen. “That were my producer from Mix.”

 

“Oh? Everything alright? You didn’t sound too happy.”

 

Finn let out a great sigh as he joined her on the couch, closing his eyes as he spoke. “Yeah, I gotta do somethin’ I really don’t wanna do. But it’s part of bein’ a deejay.”

 

“And what’s that?”

 

“Gotta do a live broadcast.” He reached up and rubbed behind his left ear in a gesture that Rae was beginning to recognize as a nervous habit. “I hate ‘em. I might be a deejay, but I’m no good with words if I’m not in the booth, and people always wanna talk at live broadcasts.” Before Rae could answer, he continued on. “There is one bit of good news. Iz told me Mix is givin’ all the deejays that are workin’ the show an extra ticket. Guess it’s to make up for havin’ us work instead of gettin’ to go for the music.”

 

“Wow, best work perk ever.” Rae replied, impressed.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Finn looked down at his hands, which were now fiddling with a guitar pick he’d snagged from the coffee table.

 

“So, fancy goin’ to T In The Park?”


End file.
